


Vows

by FFanon



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, wedding vows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:59:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9172165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFanon/pseuds/FFanon
Summary: NON-chronological glimpses of moments in your relationship with Frank as they relate to wedding vows





	1. I take you

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the scenes make sense with the vows they're for; if not, let me know and I'll explain haha. Thanks for reading!

**_I, (f/n), take you Frank, to be my husband_ **

**_I, Frank, take you (f/n), to be my wife_ **

****

“That’ll be $4.75,” the barista places your coffee on the counter.  You dig in your purse for your wallet and find nothing causing you to curse under your breath.  It’s then that you remember a man bumping into you about ten blocks back – bastard pickpocketed your wallet.  Just great.

 

Now you’re flustered, hating being the center of attention to all these people in line, “I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to find my wallet.  Can I just run to the bank down the street real fast? Come ba…” but before you can finish your plea, something brushes past your arm.  From behind you, an arm reaches forward and places a five dollar bill on the counter; the stranger’s knuckles are purple and scabbed, a truly jarring sight. 

 

You quickly turn around and come face to face with a set of dark, brown eyes and a unique nose that only seems to make this stranger more handsome. 

 

Your cheeks blush slightly as you find your voice, “uh…thank you.”  His looks actually make you lose your train of thought as you find his handsomeness is paired with a black eye and a healing, split lip.

 

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He gives an incredibly fast, polite little smirk then it disappears as fast as it appeared. 

 

Picking up the paper cup, you step out of the line as people are grumbling behind you at how long you’re taking.  You wait by the door until the kind stranger starts walking towards you with his own cup now in hand.

 

“Sir, I want to pay you back, that was very nice of you.  Tomorrow your coffee’s on me, same time?”  You follow him outside.

 

He side-eyes you before turning to face you quickly, “Don’t worry about it,” and with that he stalks off into the crowded streets of New York.

 

Weeks go by of you waiting an extra five minutes every morning hoping to see him to pay him back.  The feeling of not being able to repay someone irks you to no end.  You’re at the point of finally giving up when one morning you walk in and get on the line as usual.  This time as you glance around, you spot that familiar black baseball cap several people ahead.  As that same handsome stranger steps up to the counter, you abandon your spot in line rushing up with a ten dollar bill in your hand.

 

“I got this!” 

 

The man quickly turns to see who it is, and you’re pretty sure he smirks when he sees it’s you, but like last time, it’s there for half a second before it’s gone. 

 

“Lost your place in line for this,” he states as you place the money on the counter.  You narrow your gaze for a second wondering how he knew that when he was ahead of you; you could have just walked in for all he knew. 

 

You look back and sure enough, no one left your space open for you and there’s even more people to wait behind now.  No good deed goes unpunished.

 

“That’s fine, at least I finally got to pay you back.” 

 

The barista comes back and places the man’s coffee on the counter, he goes to pick up your money off the counter but the handsome stranger juts out his hand to stop the young man from grabbing it.  You can’t help but notice that this man’s knuckles are still scraped up and it’s been weeks since you’ve last seen him.

 

The young barista looks up at the man who says, “Could I get another coffee?” and he looks at you with a slight raise of his eyebrow, waiting for you to give your order.  Caught off guard briefly that this man is again being so kind to you, you quickly give your coffee order.  In a surprise turn, the man waits with you as your coffee is made.  You aren’t sure what to make small talk about so you just explain how you’re glad that he came back to his shop because it gave you the opportunity to repay him.  When you get your coffee, you’re too busy grabbing a couple napkins to notice that in that very short time the man hands the barista his own ten dollar bill instead of letting him take yours.  When you turn back the stranger is gone and the barista is handing you back your money. 

 

You quickly take it, shoving it in your pocket, and turn around to see the stranger exit the shop.

 

“Hey, wait!”  you rush after him, catching him a few feet from the coffee shop, “But I was so close to paying you back,” you almost question him, especially after you had just told him that you were so glad to be able to finally do it. 

 

“Women shouldn’t have to pay for anything for men, you do enough for us assholes already,” he licks his lips and sips his coffee. 

 

You give a quick laugh at his unexpected response and stick your hand out, “I’m (f/n) by the way, thank you for the coffee…again.”

 

He switches his cup to his left hand and with his right, so warm from the coffee, shakes your hand, “Frank.”  And this time that smirk of his stays longer than a second.

****


	2. To have and to hold

**_to have and to hold, from this day forward,_ **

Frank stood leaning against your bathroom sink, shirtless – a sight you’ll never get used to.  His muscled body was something to look at but you tried hard not to, you didn’t want to be obvious in your attraction to him.  Frank knew though; he noticed the slight blush to your cheeks whenever you tended to him. 

 

You’re stitching a gash on his shoulder so you’re standing right up against him just about.  It’s become a familiar routine to you both at this point; a comfortable moment despite the circumstances. 

 

His leg is between yours as you stand close enough to suture him; in the corner of your eye you see his face turning towards you as you assume he’s just looking at your work.

 

His breath hits your cheek as you hear him chuckle, “What are you doing?”

 

“What?” you’re too concentrated on closing his wound.

 

“You’re wiggling your nose,” he reaches out with his other hand and just lightly runs his fingertip down it.

 

“I have an itch,” you smirk as you glance at him. Your hands are a little busy right now and have some blood on them so you can’t properly deal with it.

 

He gives you one of those lopsided grins of his, “Where is it? I’ll get it.”

 

You glance at him again before giving a quiet laugh, “on top.”

 

And sure enough, he reaches out again and gives the bridge of your nose a little scratch. Before he pulls his hand away from your face completely, he tucks some hair behind your ear that was hanging in front of your left eye a little.  You don’t miss how he just barely caresses your cheek as he withdraws his hand.

 

A small smile is on your face as you thank him.  The smile only gets bigger when Frank kisses your temple in response.  You two are at this point in your friendship, where touches weren’t awkward anymore and were, dare you say, wanted.

 

When you finish, and tie off the thread, you lift your head to look at him as to tell him you’re all done, but you find him already looking at you.  You’re already so close at this point that your noses are almost touching.

 

The air between you feels like it’s been sucked out as you watch his eyes flicker to your lips quickly before meeting your gaze again. A warmth is felt on your hip and you realize it’s his hand; you feel as it slowly slides to rest on your lower back. 

 

You place your hand on his bare chest, almost to steady yourself because you feel light headed already from what you think is about to happen.  His other hand comes up and covers yours, his thumb moving back and forth across your skin. 

 

He leans in just a little closer and your noses are nestled together now.  His moves against yours so gentle that you close your eyes to just fully experience solely his touch.   You open them again when he asks quietly, “Should I go?” despite his actions saying otherwise. 

 

As you slowly move your hand from his grasp and slide it up to cup his jaw, you make just the slightest shake of your head, “No.” 

 

He closes that small space, molding his lips to yours. It’s soft and tender and oh so perfect for your first kiss with Frank. 


	3. For better, for worse

**_for better, for worse,_ **

 

The second you both walk into his safe house apartment, he starts in.

 

“What the hell were you thinking?! Huh? You could have been killed!”

 

You roll your eyes before turning to face him, “So could you!”

 

He gives you one of those furrowed brow stares of his before shaking his head.  Crouching down next to an open case, he begins packing his guns up that he had used that night.  He drops the shouting, but his tone is still angry.

 

“I’m trained for this kind of shit. You aren’t.”

 

Crossing your arms against your chest, your adrenaline is pumping.  He’s the one who made you take him with you when you said you were doing recon for Karen, for one of her articles. 

 

He had told you that if anything went down, you were to stay in the car and he’d take care of it.  Well, shit did go down and Frank did go to take care of it.  But when a good amount of time had passed, you grabbed one of Frank’s guns from the backseat and took off after him.  He was pinned down by gunfire so you figured you’d help.  You succeeded with distracting them long enough for Frank to get out of his spot, but then you became a target along with him.

 

“You taught me how to shoot, remember? What else are you trained for, that I’m not, for a situation like that?” 

 

He leans his head back in disbelief for a brief second before standing back up, “I’m not even going to answer that.  Only one of us has been to war and it sure as hell wasn’t you.”

 

His service is a big part of who he is, but that doesn’t give him the right to talk down to you almost, “You’re such an asshole.” 

 

The look he gives you makes you instantly regret saying it.  He truly looks hurt for a brief flash of a second.

 

“We can’t do this anymore. You and I…this,” he motions between you both.

 

And you want to scream because you know exactly where this conversation is going.  The same conversation that you’ve heard before when things have become a little too dangerous around you.

 

“Stop,” you say it low because you’re trying not to yell at him right away but he ignores you and he keeps on with his bullshit.

 

“You aren’t safe with me.  That fucking shit that went down tonight, you wouldn’t have been involved if I hadn’t gone with you,” he runs his hand down his face in frustration, “But it’s just…I couldn’t have you going there alone,” he sighs as he continues, “We aren’t good for each other.” 

 

And you feel pain throughout your chest at those last words. 

 

He knows he’s an asshole because he sees the tears form in your eyes when he says that, but he needs to say whatever he can for you to stay away from him.  You deserve a long, happy life – something you won’t get if you’re with him.

 

“Tell me you don’t actually mean that, Frank,” and it comes out a pained whisper. 

 

He doesn’t answer, instead asking you quietly, “Why won’t you just stay away from me?”

 

You look up for a second to stop the tears from falling.  You lick your lips quick, which suddenly feel so dry, as you shake your head.  When you look back at him, he hasn’t moved an inch.

 

“Because I love you, Frank,” and you never thought the first time you’d tell him that would be in the middle of a heartbreaking argument, “And if you want it so bad, why don’t you stay away from _me_?”

 

He does nothing to indicate what he’s thinking and you don’t stay to find out.  The second you ask him that, the only sound in his apartment is the door slamming behind you. 

 

Instantly you hear his door get ripped open and his footsteps quickly making their way behind you down the hallway.  Tears are streaming down your face and your body is hot with anger.   You’re almost to the stairs when you feel yourself being lifted, Frank having scooped you up. As he starts heading back to his place, you push against him, fighting to get out of his grasp.

 

“No! Leave me alone!”

 

He ignores you and just holds you tighter against him.  Once he’s back inside his place, he puts you down and stands in front of the door; he doesn’t want you storming off again.

 

You both look at one another.  A load of words hanging between you, almost all not truly meant. But those three words, you meant those with everything you have.

 

After several seconds of silence passes you look at him.  You find those dark eyes of his and you notice his hands are steady at his sides, “You really think we aren’t good for each other?” You wipe tears from your cheeks as you ask him, heartbroken.

 

( _People that can hurt you, the ones that can really hurt you, are the ones that are close enough to do it.)_

 

He moves on you, hands gently finding your face. His palms rest against your jaw, thumbs brushing the tears from your cheeks, “Never,” it’s soft and sincere, “I should never have said that,” he presses a kiss to your cheek so gently, like he may break you if he puts any force behind it, “Shit, you’re the only good part of me. You know that.”  

 

As his thumbs keep moving against your skin, it’s his turn to ask something, “You really love me?”

 

You nod in his grasp, “More than you know.”

 

The smile that slowly forms on his face is a memory you’ll never forget.

 

He kisses you with such passion that you feel it in your bones.  And part of you knows already, but he only confirms it after his lips slowly leave yours…

 

“I’m sorry for all that shit I said…fuck, you just scared the shit out of me back there.  I’d rather deal with the pain of not having you in my life, than deal with the pain of not having you in this world,” he moves to wrap an arm around your waist as he caresses your cheek with the other, lightly grazing his knuckles across your blushing skin,  “And there ain’t no way I want us to stay away from each other,” his smile is sweet, “because my god, do I love you too.”


	4. For richer, for poorer

**_for richer, for poorer,_ **

****

When a handsome lawyer asks you out, you should have realized right away it was probably too good to be true because that just doesn’t happen to you. 

 

You were so nervous because he was meeting you at a fancy restaurant, something you aren’t used to, and he was so much more successful than you, you wanted to look like perfection personified.  Frank was there when you were getting ready, he was more quiet than usual but not completely.

 

_He leaned against the bathroom doorway as you were looking in the mirror while curling your hair, “Why is it you women take so long to get ready?  You started getting ready for this guy like an hour and a half ago.”  He teases, crossing his arms against his chest, watching you._

_You turn to him, holding a section of hair around the curler, “Because you men seem to only find us attractive when we look like we stepped out of a magazine,” you smirk in your response, matching the same jest filled tone that he used._

_The corner of his mouth quirks up as he glances down.  He uncrosses his arms, sticking his hands in his pockets before lifting his head to look at you again, “Just as long as you know that without all the makeup and fancy clothes, you’re still just as beautiful.”   And you share eye contact for only a couple seconds before he’s walking back into the kitchen._

The guy was unapologetic about being a half hour late; in that time you had gone to the bathroom to touch up your makeup so that’s how you knew the window was there.  When it became abundantly clear that this guy was a narcissistic jerk, you knew you only had one option.  Looking out that bathroom window, you noticed it wasn’t as easy a drop as you had hoped.  You needed help and you knew who to ask.  You pulled your phone out and texted Frank.

 

**_8:45pm: You free to come to the alley behind Lavalle’s , 28 th and 5th?_ **

****

Not even a minute later, he responded:  **_8:45pm: On my way_**

****

You waited about 10 minutes, almost surprised that your date didn’t come looking for you, if he even cared.  Finally, you saw Frank enter the alleyway and immediately start looking around for you.

 

“Up here.”

 

He looks up, “Jesus, what the hell are you doing?”

 

“I’m bailing, help me?”

 

He can’t help but laugh, “That bad, huh?  Alright, toss me your shoes, you ain’t climbing in heels and breaking an ankle.”  He holds his hands out.  You toss him one shoe at a time which he catches and places each on the ground.  You toss him your clutch next which he tucks inside his jacket. 

 

“You jumpin’ or what?” Frank wanted to know what your plan was for yourself.

 

“I’m gonna climb down, just make sure I don’t fall.”  With that, you manage to climb onto the sink, despite your dress, and you slowly go feet first out of the window.  As you carefully, and slowly, lower yourself out of the window, you feel the rough pads of his fingertips grip your calves first, then his palms are pressed into the sides of your knees as you get lower.  He catches a glimpse of your lacy underwear as you climb out and he’s thankful you can’t see him because he’s pretty sure he’s blushing like a goddamn teenager. 

 

Your hips are held tight as he guides you down the rest of the way until you’re sitting on his shoulder; he’s got a hold on your thighs so you don’t fall.  Without even giving you a second to adjust, he gives a quick shrug of his shoulder and bounces you forward. 

 

You give a quick, little yelp before you find yourself cradled in his arms, having caught you.  Arms around his neck, and a little breathless, “Thank you.”

 

He gives a little nod as he looks into your eyes, “Any time.”  He then dips forward, keeping a hold on you but placing one hand under your thighs; he holds you up until you slip your feet back into your heels, not wanting your bare feet to have to touch the grimy asphalt. 

 

He shrugs off his jacket and holds it out to you.   It is colder than when you first got here.  You slip your arms into the sleeves and turn around to face him.  He smirks at how big it is on you and at how cute you look in it.  He grasps the collar to adjust it for you, your eyes never leaving his face.  He can’t help but brush his thumb against your cheek, “You okay?”  He hopes this guy was just a moron and didn’t do anything to you. 

 

You nod giving him a small grin, “I’m okay.”  He nods moves to the side sticking his arm out to you which you accept, holding onto the crook of his elbow as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

 

“So, you hungry?  Based on the time, I doubt you even made it to the first course.”

 

You laugh, “You’d be right and yes, I’m starving.”

 

“Well, you may be a little overdressed for a diner, but how about a burger?” He grins as he glances at you. 

 

“Sounds perfect.” You give his arm a little squeeze before hugging it so you’re just a little closer to him.  He turns and kisses the side of your head. 

 

At the diner, you both get burgers and cups of coffee and you proceed to tell him how obnoxious your date was.

 

“So no Park Avenue penthouse for you and Mr. Shitbag Lawyer?”

 

“First of all, I’d never marry someone whose first name was Shitbag,” you laugh, but then you laugh harder at Frank.  You manage to make him snort into his coffee cup as he went to take a sip; his deep chuckle making you feel so proud for getting that out of him. 

 

“Second, if I did live a fancy life like that, would you even still visit me?” And under the table, you give his foot a little nudge.  

 

He chuckles and pops a fry into his mouth.  He brushes the salt from his hands as he swallows, “I’d visit you no matter where you lived,” he gives you a quick squint of his eyes before smirking, “ but I doubt Shitbag would care for it.  You get yourself a life like that, I don’t fit in anymore.”  And he gives you a small smile, meaning to show you he’s ‘joking’, but you can also see the sadness behind it. 

 

“Yeah, well, then I don’t want a life like that,” and he looks at you with a grin playing at his lips. 


	5. In sickness and in health

**_in sickness and in health,_ **

****

The gasp that escapes you is quickly muffled by your hand covering your mouth in surprise.  Waking up, the last thing you expected was to find a bloody, unconscious Frank, slumped against your wall.  A smeared bloody handprint goes from the windowsill across the wall right above where he is.

 

Crawling fast across the bed, and almost tumbling off the side, you kneel in front of him. 

 

“Please be alive, please be alive” you whisper frantically as you feel his neck for a pulse.  Tears form when you feel one.  Your hand now has blood on it and you look over his body, hands hovering, not sure where to start first. 

 

“Frank?” you say to him as you start taking his jacket off.  It’s not easy; he’s all muscle and deadweight. 

 

There’s not _too_ much blood puddled around him so he couldn’t have been here that long.   He has a big gash on his side, spanning from his shoulder blade to his hip and that seems to be the biggest of his injuries. 

 

You look at his face, his eyes closed and his bottom lip almost pouting as his head hangs against his chest.  You grasp his face and lift his face up, “Frank, please.  Please wake up.”

 

Nothing.

 

You lean your face against his and nuzzle his face gently, “Please,” you whisper.  And when he still doesn’t wake up, you know you’re going to need some help.

 

__

 

Frank opens his eyes and instantly he feels the searing heat and pain radiating from his left side.   He’s looking up at a ceiling and he immediately knows where he is.  He’s looked up at this ceiling many times after making love to you and holding you against him as you slept.  There’s that water stain from the assholes above you, the one that he thinks look like some stupid inkblot a doc would show you for a Rorschach test. 

 

He remembers now how he somehow managed to drag himself up your fire escape and make it inside before probably passing out.  Regret fills him instantly at putting you in this situation.  Sure, you’ve stitched him up before, but this…this was so much bigger than that.  He turns his head and sees the faint stain of his blood on your white walls where you obviously tried in vain to scrub it off completely.  He slowly raises his hand and rubs his eyes as he thinks what a fucking horrific sight he must have been for you to see.

 

“Shit! Frank! Hey, you’re awake!”  

 

Frank moves his hand and lifts his head a little to see Foggy approaching him. 

 

“Hey man, it’s me, uh…Fogg…I mean Nelson.” 

 

If he wasn’t in his current condition, Frank might actually chuckle at Foggy’s clear hesitation at talking to him, but he has no patience for this right now.

 

“Where is she?”  His voice more hoarse-sounding than usual due to the lack of use.

 

Foggy glances towards the wall where the bathroom is on the other side, “In the shower.  She hasn’t left your side for three days, you can imagine how bad she needed one,” and he laughs nervously because it was one thing to help you move an unconscious Frank to the bed, but speaking to a conscious Frank was the harder part. 

 

Almost if on cue, you shut the water off and step out of the shower.  You towel dry your hair before drying off a little and wrapping the towel around your body, tucking it in at your chest.  You hear a knock on the door and since it’s just Foggy, someone who’s like a brother to you, you open the door, “What is it? Did something happen?” 

 

Frank hears the worry in your voice as you instantly assault Nelson with the questions.  His heart feels like someone’s squeezing it because he’s made you like this. 

 

“He’s awake,” Foggy tells you and steps aside before you knock him down to get past. 

 

When you round the small corner and come into view, Frank swears his heart jumps at the sight of you.  You’re slightly damp hair, collected and tossed over your collarbone on one side; the way your skin glistens with the water that didn’t evaporate yet; the slight pink hue to your cheeks from the steam.

 

You immediately go to him and sit on the edge of the bed.  You gently grasp his face and lean over to look at him.  His hand comes up to rub small circles on your towel covered back, his other draped across your thigh.

 

You rub his cheekbones with your thumbs, a big soft smile on your face, “Hi,” you whisper.  

 

He moves his hand from your back to run the back of his finger across your cheek, “Hi,” and his gives you that Frank grin you’ve been dying to see these past few days. 

 

The ends of your hair tickle his jaw as you’re leaned over him, a few droplets of water growing from the ends and falling onto his skin.  It feels so good because he feels so warm right now, and he doesn’t know if it’s from the stitched up gash or the love he has for you. 

 

You wipe them away as Frank cups your cheek and brushes a tear from under your eye.

 

“What are you doing taking off work for me?” He smirks trying to lighten the situation because he wants to lift all the worry and heartache you’ve had to deal with. 

 

“Making sure you didn’t leave me,” you brush his hair back, kissing his forehead, before resting your hand back on his cheek.

 

And he remembers now why he dragged his sorry ass back here to you.  Because if he was going to die, he needed to see you one more time.  Needed to see the face of the beautiful woman who managed to pump life and love back into that sorry excuse of a heart he had left. He wanted to see the last good thing in this world, before he left it.

 

He snakes his hand past your shoulder to weave into your damp hair, pulling you down a little more, and kisses you softly.

 


	6. For as long as we both shall live

**_For as long as we both shall live_ **

****

Frank chuckles as you pace in front of him. His lower back pressed against the edge of the countertop, leaning back on his hands gripping it. 

 

You’re reading over the words you need to say to officiate your brother’s wedding tomorrow.  He had asked that you do so, so over the internet you became an ordained minister. 

 

And he owes you because you are incredibly, well beyond, nervous.

 

You wish Frank could go with you, you’ve been together a few years now and he’s the biggest support system you have, but alas a fugitive isn’t a good idea to bring as a date.

 

“Alright, tell me if I sound as nervous as I feel?” You glance at Frank before reciting everything you need to say. 

 

When you finish, he leans forward gently taking the paper from your hands, “Baby, you need to relax.  You’re talking a little too fast.  Here, I’ll read it and just listen to the pace I go, okay?”

 

Running your hand through your hair, you nod standing a couple feet in front of him.

 

Frank reads everything in a normal, well-paced flow.  He gets to the vows part, the most important part to do right.

 

“Repeat after me, I (f/n) take you Frank to be my husband,”  he says with a grin and you shoot him an amused smirk before repeating the words.  He continues glancing at you for the remainder of the vows. 

 

When he’s finished, you don’t even get a chance to say anything before he’s putting the paper down on the counter and pushes off from it, looking directly at you.

 

“I Frank, take you (f/n) to be my wife,” and his tone is different now.  It’s serious and soft and the tone he uses when he’s telling you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. 

 

“To have and to hold from this day forward,” he’s slowly walking towards you and his eyes are soft, full of light and love.  His lips are in a smirk that has a mix of slight amusement and total adoration. 

 

He has every line memorized, never straying from your eyes to grab for the paper.   As the weight of the words and the tone of his voice sink in, tears start forming at this defining moment of your relationship.

 

Frank sees that loving smile you’re giving him, and those gorgeous eyes of yours as they’re brimming with unshed tears, and he knows that this is right.  This has always been right.  He wants nothing more than to be the cause of your happiness for as long as he can and to give you all the love that you deserve; you’ve already done the same for him. 

 

“For better, or for worse,”  and he’s in front of you now.  He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you up against him.  Your hands slide up his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck; his other hand cups your cheek. 

 

“For richer,” he kisses your cheeks.

 

“for poorer,” he kisses your jaw and you caress his. 

 

“In sickness,” he kisses your forehead.

 

“and in health,” he kisses the corners of your eyes.

 

“for as long as we both shall live,” he kisses you slowly. 

 

The kiss is deep and slow.  His hand slides to your jaw and his thumb is brushing along your chin.  After a couple minutes, as you both pull away, he places several quick kisses to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. 

 

Your fingers rub against the nape of his neck as he pulls away just enough to look at you.  He kisses the corner of your top lip before his thumb sweeps across your mouth.  He meets your eyes and whispers, “If I could, I would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
